


A Continued Hell

by Pix23



Series: A Continued Hell [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Hell, Post-Hell Dean Winchester, Sam in Hell, Torture, Tortured Dean, Tortured Sam, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7812169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pix23/pseuds/Pix23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is the soul that Dean has to break in order to get off the rack, though his reasons aren't as selfish as they seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Continued Hell

The guilt in Dean's eyes was so profound that any jury in the country would have convicted him, of murder based on the expression alone; not that his rap sheet wasn't long enough to provide the evidence. Thirty years in hell, thirty god forsaken years and couldn't make it a measly five more before picking up a blade. He was truly a worthless human being, if he was even human after all the things he had done.

Dean glances across the room at his brothers sleeping form, sprawled out on the dingy hotels mattress, he quickly brings his gaze back to his hands in front of him. He couldn't even stand to look at him; it didn't matter if Sammy didn't remember being there... and it didn't matter how much he lied and said that he didn't remember hell.

It was all he could do not to make a deal to get back into hell or to just eat a bullet do it his damn self. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that the angels would just drag is pathetic soul back to solid ground.

The was all that he could see, when he closed his eyes he was back on the rack, and when they were open all he could see was Sam on the rack beside him. He could still feel every cut in his skin, but worse than that he could still hear the bone chilling screams of every innocent soul he had selfishly cut into. Every moment he spent in hell was permanently seared into brain. Every little girl Alistair had put in front of him with their hair still tied up in little pink and purple ribbons, every hunter that looked at him with shock and disgust, when they opened their eyes on the rack for the first time and it was Dean standing in front of them with the blade. But worst of all, was Sam.

His own flesh and blood, torn open, trembling in front of him, eyes poisoned with fear,his choked voice begging for all of it to end, only to have Dean pick up a new instrument and start the process all over again. He couldn't live with it, he wanted, no, needed to be back on Alistair's rack for the rest of eternity. 

_Dean groans opening his eyes, the familiar ache of being stretched tightly on hell's rack was something that he had never gotten used to even after all the years. Torture he could handle but the inactivity killed him. He had always hated staying in one place for too long.  
"Another day another dollar," Dean sneered sarcastically to the yellow eyed bastard standing in front of him blade already in hand. _

_"But today is such a special day; today is the day that you break for good," Alistair smiles running his hand through the boys hair almost gently.  
Dean couldn't help but roll his eye, "This again, how many times do I have to tell you and your hell spawn minions that I will never pick up your damn blade."_

_"Oh" the demon almost coed the word if it hadn't been for the sadistic tone, you would of thought he was trying to be comforting. With the snap of his fingers another rack appeared across from them. Only this one held Dean's worst nightmare, his brother strung up just like him. the entirety of his weight pulling down on his arm, and his legs pulled down and spread so that his hips were almost dislocated. "You see Dean my boy, humans aren't the only ones that get to make deals".  
"Sammy"_

 

 

Dean opens his eyes, sitting up quickly, his brothers concerned glance let him know that it had just been another nightmare.  
“Are you alright,” Sam asked watching his brother panting for air. Dean barely slept anymore, he just drank until he passed out for a few hours only to drink more to kill the hangover when he woke up. 

“I'm fine Sam,” he knew his brother really didn't believe him, but the lie was all he had at this point, “Really it was just a dream go back to sleep.” He watched his brother roll his eyes, relieved when he didn't push the subject. The last thing he needed was yet another argument about hell. He watched the rise and fall of Sam's chest for at least an hour to make sure the youngest hunter was asleep, before getting of the bed and making his way to the bathroom. He would never be able to convince Sam that he deserved everything that had happened and more, but that's what this was for to send him back. 

Without thinking about it he ties his belt around his arm just above the elbow tightening with his mouth, he slid the needle in without and hit of hesitation; It was wrong and he knew it, but the familiar sting brought him one step closer to the pit. He through the spent syringe In the trash, taking another shot before collapsing on his bed once again, Letting the memories take his exactly where he wanted to be, hanging on Alistair's rack barely able to see from the pain. 

_Alistair paced around the younger boy, deciding what to do first with his knew toy. “You see Dean, you're going to decide how long I keep your precious baby brother,” he couldn't help but laugh at the look of horror on his charges face knowing that Deans only current comfort was in Sam's unconscious state._

_“And how in this hell would I do that,” Dean practically growled the questions fighting against the bonds for the first time in years, the lines of blood forming at his wrists told him it was a pointless en-devour but he didn't care._

_“Its simple, your brother isn't really dead just on loan for a few days.” A sigh of relief escaped Deans lips but it would be short lived. “Here is the deal I am willing to make you,” Alistair says with a seductive grin “you can get off the rack and torment your brother for one day topside, after which he would leave with no memory of him being here,” the demon offered sliding a blade down the boys face with deliberate slowness watching him start to stir, “or I can torture him for two weeks top side and he leaves with all of his memory, especially the ones of you watching unable to do anything about it.”_

_Deans breathe caught in his chest the choice should be clear for months with no memory of it is a hell of a lot better than five years of agony carved into your brain. But he didn't think he was strong enough to take a knife to his own bloodline._  
“tic toc Winchester, he is waking up,” he teased running the blade down the boys other cheek, watching the blood start to fall.  
“fine,” dean mumbled almost incoherently  
“fine what?”  
“I'll do it, I will torture my brother, just so you keep your bastard hands off him.”  
“such anger,” the demon teased snapping his fingers watching Dean's rack disappear “just save that for when you're wielding the knife.” 


End file.
